


One of Us

by garbagefluff



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Friendship, Implied Early Carver/Merrill, Other, Super Early FenHawke, The Hanged Man (Dragon Age), bar shenanigans, budding friendships, friendship fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-10
Updated: 2017-04-10
Packaged: 2018-10-17 05:16:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10587198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/garbagefluff/pseuds/garbagefluff
Summary: Fenris realizes that he is officially a member of the Merry Band of Misfits and contemplates what it means to have friends.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This was entirely inspired by the song "One of Us" by New Politics. I may have blatantly stolen the title after I listened to it at least ten times in a row while writing... Enjoy! :)

Fenris followed Hawke into the dingy bar.  After fighting the city's underworld all day, he did not think such a place would be their chosen hang out, but he made no move to contest.  He was a guest among them.  Another bodyguard of sorts, he supposed.  If they wanted to consort with the people they'd later be hunting down in alleyways, that was their prerogative.

Varric and Hawke were already laughing uncontrollably at some inside joke Fenris did not quite understand by the time they saddled up to the bar.   

"My, my, Isabela!" Hawke catcalled the pirate that was already sipping an ale on the other side of the bar.  She had accompanied them on several occasions and had never failed to make Fenris feel uncomfortable yet welcomed at the same time.  "Fancy meeting you here!"

"Well, if it isn't my favorite dwarf and his sidekicks!"  She teased, ruffling Varric's hair.  

"Hey, hey now! Just because I let you touch my chest hair that one time, doesn't give you free reign to mess up this perfection!"  He chuckled, playfully shoving her arm away.

As Isabela and Varric continued to flirt, the door swung open and in walked Hawke’s absurdly tall younger brother with the tiny blood mage at his side.   It didn’t take long for Carver to notice the four of them at the bar and a bright red flushed to his face as he looked away from Merrill and cleared his throat.  "Ugh, you lot are here?  Do you ever leave?" Carver asked attempting to mask his embarrassment.

Merrill giggled as Hawke gasped and feigned being stabbed in the gut.  “You wound me, little brother!  In fact, just today, we took a walk around the block before coming back for another drink.”

Carver sighed deeply and rolled his eyes.

"I live here, Junior." Varric responded.  "And you know you love us deep down under all that pent up angst. Remember last week? I recall a certain someone dancing on the bar declaring…”

"For the love of, yes, alright, stop! If I buy you a drink will you never bring that up again, Varric," Carver pleaded.   
  
Varric laughed. "It's a start."

“Where’s Aveline?  And Anders?”  Hawke asked looking over the group as though he expected them to pop up if only he looked hard enough.

Isabela gestured over her shoulder to the scrawny mage sitting at a back table.  “Anders is over there scribbling away on his manifesto and the big girl’s probably still on duty.  If we’re quick we can get in a few rounds before she shows up to referee our ‘ _shenanigans._ ’”  Isabela said the last word in a deep mocking tone, Fenris could only assume was her impression of the guard captain.

The group laughed and began to meander over to the table where Anders was seated.  Fenris watched them and made to leave as it appeared his services were no longer needed.  He was stopped by a slap on the arm from Isabella.  "What are you drinking, doll face?  First round's on me!"  She did not wait for an answer, but continued on as if she expected him to follow.

Varric must have noticed his confused look of surprise because he stopped and looked up at the elf.  "You're one of us, now, broody. Get used to it." Varric gave him a wink and gestured toward the table where it appeared Hawke was dramatically acting out some sort of battle.  Just from his movements, Fenris knew the man had to be grossly exaggerating. 

Fenris allowed himself a quick smile and followed Varric to the back table the group always seemed to claim as their own.  He sat down at the end of the table and carefully examined his compatriots.  All so carefree and unexpectedly accepting.  Even the mage, Anders seemed unbothered by his presence as he slid one of the tankards Isabela had purchased to him.

Fenris quietly sipped his ale, listening to the others laugh and tell stories.  It occurred to him that he might actually like these people.  He definitely enjoyed Hawke, and he felt quite pleased to have been added to his collection of misfits.  He could get used to having friends, he thought to himself, now buzzed enough to openly join in the laughter.

  
Throughout the night, he couldn’t quite seem able to keep his eyes off of Hawke, so unabashedly charming and content.  Unafraid of making a fool of himself with his overly dramatic tales.  Fenris thought back to a conversation the two of them had recently had.  Something about making a home when all is said and done and there is nothing more to run from.  It might be early yet for such thoughts, but as he looked over the faces before him, he thought, maybe, just maybe, he had already found one.


End file.
